Sonset
by RockieRoade
Summary: Future Fic-Welcome to Metropolis,2013.Lex Luthor's Presidential candidacy triggers a series of events that go from bad to worse for Clark,Lois and Chloe.Superman is falling in the publics eye...A murder.A death.A mystery.
1. Trigger

Chapter 1:Trigger

The scene at the Daily Planet was as chaotic as ever. Interns rushed around with coffees in hand, and more often than they liked, on their shirts, bringing much needed caffeine to the stressed reporters. The paper went to press in just under an hour, and not 45 minutes before, the biggest story since Superman had suddenly and unexpectedly knocked the journalistic world on it's collective rear.

It wasn't especially extraordinary for Lex Luthor to hold a press conference. In fact, it was a common enough occurrence that it served as a proving ground for the greener batch of reporters. However, by some minor miracle or stroke of luck, the Daily Planet's top two story chasers had been delegated to Luthor-watching duty as they waited for an exclusive interview scheduled just after.

Clark had been contemplating a nice little nap before the confrontation that he was really not looking forward to, but the gathering had a much more important, as well as ominous, purpose than he could have realized. The general consensus was it was just another of the eccentrically timed announcement of the billionaire's philanthropist activities. A confidence booster for all those cynics who were suspicious of corporate schemes (and rightly so- Clark himself had quite a few Luthor exposes under his belt, and he had nothing on Lois' resume)

Ironically enough, she had just commented sarcastically on his former friend's politics only two minutes before Lex announced his presidential candidacy.

Clark Kent tapped his watch one more time, sighing impatiently. Half an hour ago, he would have taken any tiny sliver of an opportunity to stall the upcoming interview, but now he was getting antsy. He glanced fretfully around the office at the scurrying Planet workers one more time, hoping to spot his wayward partner.

He had no such luck.

Lois was undoubtedly still chewing out the chief for handing over her big story on the newest addition to the ballot over to another staff member. She couldn't take it much longer; they had both known that the second they said, "We'll be right back," to Mr. Luthor that Perry would make sure his top two would get right back in the thick of things. This meant that they didn't have time to write up the new-age Captain of Industry's surprise decision. The whole situation, looming deadline and all, made their juicy interview all the more valuable, _if_ they could get there before Lex grew impatient.

He glanced out the window at the bright city lights, trying to calm his jittery mind. Clark couldn't help but smile, just a bit. Smallville was still first in his heart when it came to landscapes, but the Metropolis skyline was pretty darn beautiful to behold, in its own way.

"Let's get moving!"

He started, snapped out of his reverie by a quick tap on the shoulder. Before he had managed to turn all the way around, Lois was already in the elevator, a little farther down the hall, looking pointedly at him.

"C'mon, Smallville, hurry up. Richie Rich won't keep the hand of civility extended forever."

He pushed his glasses up his nose, a guise to cover up the fact that he was staring at her. Metropolis really did have its charm, and most of it was in the woman grinning impishly at him.

"You don't need to tell me. I've got plenty of experience." He trotted over, just dodging the closing elevator doors to slip in beside her.

"Hey, I remember the whole betrayal and angst saga. There's no need to pick at scabbed wounds."

She leaned back nonchalantly, arms crossed over her chest, eyebrows cocked just a fraction. "You sure you're up to this Clark?"

He nodded half-heartedly. "Blowout" was too small a word to describe their last encounter, and that wasn't even factoring in all of the times he had had confrontations with him as Superman. He put on his best wry face.

"Trying to shorten that byline, Lois?"

She smiled close-mouthed, and reached up to pat him on the cheek. "I see the raging insecurity's back. Don't worry, Smallville, I'll let you into my brilliance for a little while longer."

"Hmm. If it wins me another Kerth, you've got yourself a deal."

The easy banter waned, and Clark found himself blowing out a long sigh. Lois, hopping on to his train of thought, shook her head in disbelief.

"'Lex Luthor for President.' If you'd told me that a month ago, I would have laughed my way to a padded cell."

His lips twitched. "You might just do that, anyway."

She shot him a look- she was being serious, and if he didn't want earn a swift kick, he'd best stop avoiding the subject. The alien farm boy shrugged uncomfortably. Awkward silences weren't his thing.

"Just because he's running doesn't mean he'll actually be elected."

She snorted, but nodded too, though it fooled neither into thinking there was any real sincerity attached. "Our favorite monster has a pretty darn big lever he can use, though. Green stuff goes a long way, unfortunately."

She couldn't help but wonder what Atlantis was like this time of year; Or, rather, four years.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Hey, Goat, you got that report from Keystone in transfer yet?" A skinny, frizzy-haired man who looked like he was stuck in a permanent mid-life crisis spun around, and looked up at the prompter. He sniffed indignantly.

"Hey, if you'd actually check your computer instead of harassing me about it every two minutes, you'd know it's already there, Sullivan. And you don't get to call me 'Goat.'"

Chloe threw her hands up in mock surrender. "Why not? Everyone else does, even that guy down in office four, whose name nobody really knows."

The man, Goat, spun around in his chair and began furiously typing once again. "They've all been around longer than you. It's an in-joke, kid, and you aren't in."

The spunky blonde rolled her eyes. Leaving the bug eyed mousy-man engrossed in his work, she strode back to her own desk. One wall of her cubicle was covered in newspaper clippings and photos, all surrounding a picture of her three favorite people in the world: Lois, Clark, and herself. It wasn't quite a Wall of Weird, but it kept the tradition and spirit of the initial freak-fest alive. She settled into her chair, and hesitated before pulling up the file. A tiny smile played it's way across her lips, and she began an email to Clark, instead.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Lexcorp building was a towering monolith of clinical steel and glass, along with a radiating sense of malice and foreboding. At least, that's what it looked like to Clark. The highest point looked down on the rest of the city impersonally, like a distant dictator. He couldn't help but muse darkly; Luthor was one step closer to becoming one. The pair of intrepid reporters passed through the doors, Lois' face lighting up with mirth.

"This is gonna be interesting."

He ekked out a small smile, his eyes still darting around, taking in the enormity of it all. She punched him lightly in the shoulder, and they made eye contact. Her face lit up brightly.

"Buck up, Kent. We'll be done before you can say 'voter fraud'!"

A suggestive cough twirled them both around mid-snark, only to lay eyes on Marcy. She gave them a dull look, her stone-cold eyes and expression matching her gray chauffeur's uniform.

"Mr. Luthor requested that I lead you to his office. This way, please."

The tall, dusty-haired bodyguard spun on her heels with military precision, and clicked her way down a side hall on her black heels. The two news-hounds exchanged a glance before scurrying to catch up to her. Lois's voice dropped down just above a whisper.

"Seriously, Clark, c'mon. You can't go into the battlefield full of fear; Lex can smell it."

"Funny, you seem to be the one sniffing it out."

"Hey, this nose isn't just for news y'know. It would probably be better at its job if it didn't have to OD on your cologne every day, though."

He grinned sheepishly. "You're really ruining the anxiety buildup I've been working on all night by making me laugh."

She drew herself up proudly as they walked, smirking as she responded. "You know it. 'Lois Lane: for all your Luthor-induced symptoms. Side effects may include laughter, failure to be serious, and having a good time.'"

Marcy took a sharp turn down an even smaller hallway. It was apparent that their destination was tucked away from the beaten path as far as possible. Clark wasn't paying much attention; Lois' sparkling smile and glittering eyes were framed in his gaze. She was beautiful.

He leaned over and whispered, "I think you forgot one."

It took a moment for his comment to register. Then, she stopped, causing him to do so as well. Eyebrows quirked up at him, she took a step closer, playful demeanor clear in her posture.

"And what might that be, Smallville?"

He chuckled nervously, his mind rushing to think of a decent comeback to cover his muddy tracks. Thankfully, a tiny mechanical beep signaled their ride's arrival. The private elevator's timely appearance threw off the conversation.

Lex's office, on the top floor, and one long elevator ride, was guarded by a massive pair of stainless-steel doors. There was no creak or squeak from the hinges as Marcy pulled it open, and gestured inside.

They stepped into the CEO's chambers. A classical music piece that Clark could not identify flowed through the air like cream, sweetening the demeanor of the scowling apartment. Lining the dark wall were a sparse few trophies from past economic conquests; the logos, in gold, of a few dozen companies bought out, embodying the last sparkling hope of a small business that only echoed now within the vast Lexcorp machine. The windows engulfed an entire wall, and the view of the city was spectacular, despite the slight blur caused by the thickness of the bulletproof glass. Lex stood behind a wide mahogany desk, his back to the reporters. The unblemished black of his suit contrasted the light pouring in sharply.

Clark swallowed a sigh, and cracked his knuckles instead. Lex nodded once to Marcy, and she fell back into the hallway to silently stand vigilant. He turned halfway to face them.

"I'm glad you made it in time. You almost missed a very profitable window of opportunity."

Annoyance nipped at the fringes of his words. Lois chimed right in, as always.

"We would have been around sooner if you hadn't decided to throw a monkey wrench in the plans for tomorrow's edition. Why did you wait so long to make the 'big announcement'?"

Lex shook his head in amusement. "Right to the point. Are we on the record already, Miss Lane?"

No doubt, a hundred, a thousand, witty retorts swirled through Lois's mind, but she was forced to bite her tongue instead of his ego. Alienating a high profile personality such as the mogul before them was something that no self-respecting journalist could afford. No matter how much she thought he was a self-serving, slimy, maniacal snake, the Planet was her greater cause, and she had to take one for the team.

"That's up to you, Mr. Luthor. Though, it is high up on my list of questions."

He chuckled, as if at some private joke, and gestured widely to the chairs splayed out in front of his desk. "Have a seat, then, Miss Lane."

His eyes darted to Clark and lost a noticeable amount of sparkle as his voice slipped into a controlled neutral. "Mr. Kent, too, I would assume."

Clark fiddled with his glasses irritably. His voice was equally emotionless. "Of course. Now, first question."

He flipped open his notepad and clicked his pen with authority as Lois took out the digital recorder.

"What platform will you be running on? More specifically, what issues will you be focusing on?"

Lex leaned back comfortably in his plush chair, safe in his own territory. The words flowed out with a practiced ease. "As I had made clear earlier this evening, I will be running against both major party candidates, using my own funds. I have no party affiliations, which I think the people might find… refreshing."

He laughed shortly, and Lois forced a tight-lipped smile that didn't make it to her eyes; Clark's didn't even that far. The bald billionaire paid heed to neither.

"Politics are a very dirty game, and I think the American people will agree with me on that. We need a change of some sort, in order to pull our government out of its mudslinging rut. Obviously, national security and the economy are prime concerns, as well as diplomatic policies. However, I think that perhaps the most interesting problems are the issues my esteemed opponents are avoiding rather obviously. Those being energy use and conversation, policies for dealing with the myriad of extraterrestrial species we have come across, and meta-human control."

Clark blinked twice before it sunk in. He could feel the angry heat rising in his face, and his muscles seized up. Meta-human control? It was a nightmare idea akin to the Holocaust- or so it could possibly become, if it was taken seriously by any majority baby-kissers. To hear Lex speak of it so openly... The capitalist king sat, staring back at him with a satisfied smirk. He could hear Lois shift uncomfortably in her seat beside him. She raised her eyebrows, and Clark was amazed how relaxed her voice remained as she fielded another question.

"Care to explain that last one?"

"Of course. It has always been my firm belief that there are certain individuals with exceptional abilities. In the past eight years, we've had an incredible surge of these 'Meta-humans' revealing themselves to the public as costumed superheroes. Their revelations are incomplete, however. We don't know exactly who most of these vigilantes are. I emphasize vigilante. Though the much of the public and the media, forgive me-Daily Planet included, see these meta-humans as our protectors, they are themselves, criminals.

"A world where we give adulation and power to those who bypass the law entirely, disrespecting this country's legacy of democracy, is a very dangerous one." He clasped his hands under his chin and leaned forward, a contemplating look spread across his face. "I understand the contribution to society made by these brightly clad individuals, and I am grateful for it."

_Yeah, right,_ Clark and Lois thought simultaneously.

"I also understand the reasoning behind their reluctance to go public. I think what we really need now is to equip and train our police and government forces so that vigilante assistance isn't necessary when disaster strikes, which is unfortunately quite often as of late."

The echo of the two double L's heartbeats, steady breathing and blood flowing pounding in Clark's ears as he widened his hearing, straining desperately for some cry for help, some quiet plea, anything to get him out of this interview.

Finally, an agonizing 3.07 seconds after the end of Lex's spiel, he heard the wails a fire engine a far off distance off at the edge of suicide slums. He stood up quickly, the steal chair legs scrapping across the floor in protest, and curtly made an excuse to leave. Lois would have more luck alone, anyway; he was no use here when he was angry.

He had to walk a full two blocks before he felt he was comfortably far enough away from Lexcorp's security to do a super-speed change and fly off towards his new destination.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lois sighed in irritation, and snapped her notes shut. Politics never ceased to annoy her out of her mind. Combining that with the normal teeth-gritting action that came with talking to a Luthor, and she was in one hell of a mood.

Despite being the new kid on the Capitol Hill block, Lex had a mastery in the art of vague evasion, dwarfing even the biggest political giants. After preaching on about what he might as well have dubbed "Super Zeroes," she had gotten mostly feel-good, empty filler. All the good stuff was in the first two minutes. Pathetic.

She shrugged her coat up on her shoulders as she walked out the door, an angry gust whipping her hair around her eyes. Making her way quickly to the parking garage, she stuffed her hands in her pockets. One reemerged reluctantly from the warmer wool confines clutching her ever-present lifeline. She clicked Clark's cell on speed dial, and waited.

"C'mon, Kent, have your phone on for once…"

It rang twice more, and she played with the keys in her pocket.

_Click_.

"Finally. It's pretty late, Smallville. Do you know where your partner is?"

His voice was hard to hear through the wind blowing on his end, but she just made it out. "Hey, Lois. How did the rest of the interview go?"

The phone clattered to the ground.

"Lois, I'm sorry I left. Lois? Hello? Lois!"

**_End part one_**.


	2. Jilt

Chapter 2:Jilt

Clark, still in his Superman gear, stopped his flight to hover a few stories above South and Main. He frowned at his uncooperative cell phone worriedly. The signal was still strong; the call hadn't been disconnected. And he could have sworn he heard something in the background. So what had happened?

Tucking it tidily to clip on the inside of his belt once more, he took off toward Lexcorp at top speed. Chances of something happening there, with security so tight, were slim, but that didn't help the gut feeling screaming at him to find Lois, now.

It didn't help, either, when he caught the sound of police sirens, and a dispatch buzzing through all patrol cars.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You're a real moron."

Her captor growled, and gripped her arm more painfully. Glancing out the alley in which they were hidden with wild eyes, the incorrigible straw-haired felon was obviously getting irritated. Lois snorted, ignoring the pistol pressed against the side of her neck, and continued.

"You kidnap a high profile journalist right in front of a security camera, and when you miraculously manage to get away, instead of high tailing it out the city as fast as possible, you head downtown. Not to mention-"

He was staring at her with narrowed slits now.

"-You did this all on Superman's turf."

Which, she thought with a tinge of hope, meant this whole situation would be only temporary.

He pushed her forward, and much to her annoyance, she stumbled. The gun followed her closely; her short window of opportunity for escape had passed long before she regained her footing.

He rumbled distractedly, "Walk. And stop talking."

She turned and gave him defiant look, but moved forward. He fingered the hilt of a dagger, strapped to his leg lovingly, and she shook her head. The fellow was obviously deranged, and his current plan had confirmed her sneaking suspicion that he was more than a few cards short of a full deck.

They were directly across from the Daily freakin' Planet. It made no sense, but the guy seemed intent on going inside, for some twisted reason.

She couldn't fathom the idiocy; here he was, driving her closer and closer to what would probably be freedom. He couldn't have taken her any place better for a rescue if she had asked.

Well, at least, other than the police station, or wherever the heck Superman holed up when his feet got tired.

How many alarm bells would rings in her friends' heads, if she walked through the hall actually _silent_, and with some stranger too close for comfort? If there was any justice, any justice at all, they'd be numerous, loud and obnoxiously wailing, a symphony of suspicion that just might get her out of this bind.

And Clark- there was him, too. She had dropped her phone in surprise when she was grabbed, cutting off the conversation. That had to mean he knew something was up. Much as she liked to think otherwise, hers wasn't the only sense of suspicion that led them to their juiciest stories.

Yep, there was no way on Earth this guy wouldn't be caught. But she'd better start planning her own rescue, just in case.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Touching down just outside the business building, Clark found a scene of milling confusion and fear. He glanced around, flowing with the current. He picked up Lois' name among the mutterings, and roughly grabbed the nearest guard.

His voice cracked worriedly, "What's going on?"

The boy in blue- the human one- struggled to shrug off the grip on his shoulder, fear and contempt apparent in his countenance.

Lex undoubtedly made it an unwritten rule for his employees to never- ever- help Superman. His contempt ran deep enough for it. Of course, the law was almost never obeyed in the lower levels of the corporate workforce, but Clark's current target didn't seem to know that.

He softened his expression, and let his anxiety show through. Hopefully the fellow had some compassion.

"Please, can't you just tell me what happened? It's important."

The watchman relented his frantic struggle, shoulders sagging. Clark's grip went slack, and he looked to the guard expectantly. A dirty looked crossed the smaller man's face, but he spoke.

"Some felon from Arkham was being transported through the city. S'possedly, the breaks went out in the truck, and it crashed. The guy escaped after killing the poor chumps driving. 'Bout, oh, ten minutes, fifteen- not quite sure, exactly- the camera picked him up outside. The guy on duty didn't think it was nothing until the guy grabbed this lady leaving, and bolted."

He trailed off, gulping at Clark's enraged expression, thinking it was directed at him.

He stammered, "S'all I know, I swear!" His voice trembled and he turned to leave, but Clark spun him back around.

"Where did he go? Did he hurt her?" He hadn't realized he was shaking the terrified man until he heard a yell from one of the guard's buddies. His prisoner jittered terribly as he stopped, but gestured towards a general direction. Clark was gone before he could blink.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Lois's mind was at NASCAR speed, racing wildly to try and determine exactly what her seemingly hapless captor was trying to accomplish. It seemed like her best bet; if she wanted to stop him, she had to figure out what the heck he was trying to do.

They had passed Jimmy on the tenth floor. The man behind her had insisted on trekking up the stairs, and the photographer had been running down excitedly with something in his hand. He stopped mid-step, and beamed at her.

"Oh! Hey, Miss Lane! Where's Clark? Perry's been looking for you two."

Keeping with captor's command, she stayed silent, but made sure to establish eye contact, and make exaggerated eye rolls towards straw hair, along with a tiny head nod. The redhead stared, confused for a moment, forehead knitting in concern as he determined something was wrong.

Jimmy chuckled nervously, and turned to head back the way he came.

"I'll, um, just tell him you're here."

His quick footfalls faded as the creak and click of a door signified his departure from the stairwell.

She hissed in shock, pain, and more than a little bit of irritation, as the source of her current problem slapped her hard across the face.

"What was that! You're gonna make them suspicious. You'll ruin it!"

"That's the idea." Lois, rebellious to core, muttered, violently pushing his hand off her shoulder, and then attempted to disarm him with a quick strike to the wrist. He, obviously not really experienced in hand to hand combatant, still managed to leap back out of her range. His hand gripped the dagger's shaft with white knuckles, and his breathing was ragged and angry.

"Damn..." she sighed in disappointment, and began to trudge on according to the pistol's command.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The wind on the roof did murder on her hair, although she was a little more concerned on whether or not the convict was inclined to do the same to the rest of her. The dull whine of sirens in the distance signaled help- help that would probably arrive to do much good for Lois.

Staring at her distorted reflection in the golden orb resting on the roof, it was becoming quickly apparent that she was going to have to get out of this particular mess, herself. The cool metal barrel quivering feverishly on and off her neck pointed towards her abductor's growing nervousness.

He began mumbling incessantly, something about the time. "Almost time," she thought she heard.

Well, THAT didn't bode well.

She glanced around the rooftop, searching for some weapon or advantage she could grab. Her aquiline eyesight picked up a piece of hope- a metal shard just near the corner of the Daily Planet globe's base, debris from the structure's last beating, when Superman battled some villain high above the city. The concrete corner would be the perfect place as well. Glimmers of a plan formed in her mind. If she could just get him closer to the shard...

The stink of lightly toasted flesh filled her nostril, as a pair of red beams seared the fair haired man's hand, the gun skittering across the roof as he yelped.

Lois took the chance, and kicked him hard in the chest, sending him flying back and cracking his head on the support for the paper's enlarged emblem.

She turned, a floppy girlish grin on her face.

"You really like to make an entrance, don't you?"

Superman hovered there, a mixed expression of bemusement tingeing his smile. His arms uncrossed, and the alien hero touched down softly.

"You'd be something of an expert on that now, wouldn't you, Miss Lane?

She scrunched up her nose.

"Yeah, got my own personal white kn-"

She was cut off as a hand grabbed her collar roughly from behind. A news helicopter buzzed over head, and a crowd of spectators and reporters buzzed below as she was once again taken captive.

With every breath she cursed her stupidity. Big Blue had tensed, glaring daggers at her captor. The situation had once again become dangerous. Lois opened her mouth, fully intending to clamp her jaws on the arm wrapped around her neck, but stopped mid-clamp, as Superman's cheeks puffed, and he let out a mighty blow.

The concentrated blast of icy air hit him on the forehead, his sandy locks twirling in the alien-induced wind. As the criminal was thrown backwards, his hold on Lois broke in the shock of the cold.

The chopper came in for a tight shot of the warrior clad in tights, who moved quickly to grab the villain as he tumbled over the side. His gentleness was noticeably lacking, snaring the man's one arm, and stopping his fall abruptly.

That should have been end of story, no problem- but Lois could only watch in horror as the maniac drew the knife he had been fingering from it's lead-lined sheath, and stabbed it's Kryptonite blade into Superman's arm.

His grip was destroyed; he let go for the pain, and the suicidal victory of the abductor blonde shown in his eyes, who smirked as he fell into the crowd below, to his death.


End file.
